Handling Twins
by TeahWeah
Summary: Angelina loves the Weasley twins, but this is just one of those times that she wants to stab them with a fork.


Disclaimer: Any recognisable characters or names or whatever belongs to JK Rowling because she's cool like that.

Title: Handling Twins

Summary: Angelina loves the Weasley twins, but this is just one of those times that she wants to stab them with a fork.

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One of the difficulties of being best friends with twins is that… well, they're twins. Fred and George Weasley are no exception to this statement because… well, _they're twins_. Angelina Johnson should know this complication since she and the Weasley twins have tied a tight bond of friendship before they even set foot in the Hogwarts ground. One of the many questions that Angelina asked to Fred and George in the Hogwarts Express was, "Does your parents know how to identify you both?"

Fred and George laughed at her question; their blue eyes filled with mirth and said, "No" at the same time.

That's another complication. How they can read each other's minds like that; saying something at the same time by a mere glance at one another. It makes Angelina shudder sometimes when they answer something together. It's like seeing a mirror, except you can touch what's inside of the mirror. And they're not a mirror… they're _twins_.

But that's beside the point. Twins aren't exactly difficult to put up with; not at all hard if they're well-mannered like the Patil twins. But the Weasley twins? The word "well-mannered" does not exist in their world. Mocking a bow to Angelina is as courteous as they can get, according to her. So, being best friends with twins like Fred and George isn't exactly vacation.

Not when they start to rub something in your face.

It was just another normal day; Angelina was carrying stack of books in her hands from the library for her to revise her O.W.Ls with. A heavy mountain of books.

"Hey, Fred," Angelina panted when she passed by one of the twins. (Which is an unusual occurrence because they're practically joined by the hips.)

"Fred?" He questioned, stopping in his pace and turning around to walk beside Angelina, "Angelina, I'm not Fred. I'm George."

"Not funny, Fred," Angelina puffed, without even giving him a glance and annoyed at him for not offering to bring some of the books in her hands.

"No, _really_, Angelina," He pressed, "I'm George."

Angelina stopped walking to put the books down on the ground and took in some needed air. Angelina examined the boy in front of him critically with narrowed eyes. She shrugged and carried the books again. "Oh well," she said, "Mistakes happens."

"Yeah," George replied, "But _you_ shouldn't be making mistakes on identifying us. You're our best mate!"

Angelina admits to herself; it _is_ difficult to distinguish Fred and George separately. She doesn't say "Hi Fred" or "Hi George" all the time. It's always "Hi, boys" or just… "hi". It's easy to make a mistake to be quite honest. _They're twins_, after all. Same hair, same eyes, same Hogwarts robes, same behavior and same freckles.

Tricky, that's what they are.

"Your _mother_ makes mistakes on identifying you both, you told me before," she rolled her eyes, "Don't you go around making me feel bad over something that even your mother does."

"But you see us everyday," George said stubbornly, "For the _past five years_. Besides, mum knows how to spot us now. She, unfortunately, have learned over the years."

Angelina frowned at him and Fred came running up to them and walked next to Angelina's other side.

"Hello," Fred grinned and walked casually beside her. She is now officially equally annoyed with them both for not helping her carry the books.

"Hi, Fred," Angelina panted, trying to get the point across: _carry my books, carry my books!_ "Where were you?" She asked.

"Outside," He answered simply.

"In this weather?" Angelina asked as they passed by a window. It was raining hard.

"Had to do detention with Professor Sprout," Fred shrugged, "Quite muddy out there. I don't recommend it."

"Huh… Professor Sprout doesn't give detention," she questioned slowly.

"Well," He replied, straightening his robes, "There are those exceptions. I feel quite special, actual—."

"Fred, Angelina doesn't know which of us is which," George butted in.

She groaned. _That's_ considered as "rubbing it in your face".

Fred gasped and dropped his jaw in mockery and put his hands over his open mouth with his eyes wide open. He shook his head upon hearing his brother's words and looked at Angelina. "How would _you_ feel if we mistake you for someone else?"

Angelina laughed at him, which is a mistake since not only is she running out of air bringing the books but her laughter had taken half of her breath and the pile of books nearly toppled out of her grasp. Fred's question is absurd. No one else in Hogwarts looks like her. What with her tall figure and her one-and-only hair style.

"No, _really_," Fred said.

"Fred, stop being a bint," she replied as they reach a staircase and started climbing it, "You could never mistaken me for anyone else. It's reasonable for me to make a mistake on both of your identity so _please_ stop pestering me about it."

"Why?" George asked. Angelina stared at him questioningly. "Why is it reasonable for you to make a mistake on us?"

She sighed again, this time louder than previously. "If only that was funny," she replied sarcastically, "ha-ha."

_Twins_, she snorted in her head.

They didn't press her any longer but Angelina caught a glimpse at Fred looking at George and nodding at one another. Another of their twins jargons. They're probably channeling their thoughts to each other. Hell, she could almost _feel_ them exchanging thoughts to one another just by standing in between them.

Angelina loves the Weasley twins, but this is just one of those times that she wants to stab them with a fork.

"Here's what we do!" George said enthusiastically as he rubs his palms together. She groaned as they reached the last flight of the stairs, "For tomorrow, you—Miss Angelina Johnson—will have to identify us whenever you see us—."

"We shall go about the school separately—."

"And you shall attempt to identify myself, who is George—."

"And I, Fred. To prove that you _are_ our best mate."

"Flattering," Angelina moaned, "could you please help me carry these books now? I'm getting kind of knackered from carrying them."

"Can't do," they both answered and were off to begin their scheme.

Heh… Even Lee can't spot which is which, so why should she suffer? Nah, she knew she didn't have to go through that.

However, much to Angelina's dismay, she did go through what the twins told her the day before. When she arrived at the common room—fresh and ready to go about her day—one of the said Weasley jumped out from nowhere and stood in front of her beaming from ear to ear that it looked like the stretch of his face hurts.

"What?" Angelina asked, taken aback by this sudden appearance.

His smile turned into an annoyed face. Rolling his eyes, he opened his arms wide open and asked, "Well? Who am I?"

Angelina racked her brain as to why this question was asked to her until a sudden realization hits her. They _were_ serious about what they said yesterday. The game_ is_ on, much to her disappointment; she really doesn't want to play it. Or worse yet, be a victim of it.

"I thought you both were having a laugh," Angelina chuckled, throwing her head back in attempt to kill time to figure out who it was.

"No, serious business," he persisted.

Hah! Serious, what a very Fred and George thing. _Right._

"Okay, I'll play along with your stupid little game," she sighed, unsure as to why she's humoring them, "But promise me it's only for today_. Just today._"

He nodded.

Wrinkling her nose slightly in annoyance, Angelina pressed a finger onto her lips and studied the twin in front of her from top to bottom. From the dirty trainers up to his face which is now beaming like a minute before. For dramatic effect, Angelina walked around the boy before her.

"You're Fred," she said indifferently after she stopped pacing, picking up her bag and walked away from him.

"Lucky guess!" He yelled out as she walked out the portrait hole. All she did was smirk. Today is going to be an interesting day.

Yawning vaguely, Angelina nearly fell on the floor in shock when a red-headed someone jumped right in front of her as she was making her way to the Great Hall for breakfast. In fact, she _did_ fell on the floor because losing balance over the surprise. Angelina gave a glare filled with daggers to the Weasley before her. She took out her hand, hoping that he would help her up but only to disappoint herself as he lean on the wall next to him, waiting for her to guess who he is.

_Very suave._

"The least you could do is help me get up on my feet," Angelina hissed as she stood up and looking menacingly at the passing First Years as if daring them to laugh at her for falling down. She dusts off the dirt from her robes and narrowed her eyes threateningly at the smirking twin.

"You're Fred," she said simply.

Catching Fred gawping look, she patted his shoulders twice and went off to breakfast.

How he caught up with her so fast was beyond her.

Angelina slumped in between Alicia and Katie once she reached the Gryffindor table. She grabbed a fork and started stabbing all the food within her reach and slammed them on her plate as she muttered obscenities under her breath. Alicia and Katie couldn't help but stare at their dear friend's odd behavior especially since Angelina likes food so much.

"Angelina…," Alicia said slowly, "Why are you angry at your bacon?"

"You're Alicia," Angelina murmured angrily and then turned to Katie, "And you're Katie Bell."

Huh... the disease is spreading already.

Katie and Alicia both raised their eyebrows.

"You don't say?" Katie replied sarcastically, "Come on, tell us. Why are you throwing a fit at your food?"

Before Angelina could answer, one half of her problem sat in front of them with a mischievous grin glued on his face and raising his eyebrows as a sign to encourage her to give him the right answer to his identity. Taking a deep breath out of irritation, Angelina peeked below the table without moving an inch and her eyes shifted to the person in front of her.

_Fork in her grasp. Fork into his forehead. Hm…_

"You're George;" she said indifferently, "Now leave me alone."

"I'm not George," he snorted.

"Yes you are," Angelina replied, stabbing her eggs violently, "Now, go away. We'll continue this later."

"Dammit," he whispered to himself and walked away.

And the day dragged on. It seemed to her every ten minutes of her free time involved one of the Weasley twins jumping right in front of her or catching her by surprise for her to guess if it was Fred or George. She was even tempted to stay in the ladies for the rest of the day during lunch time onwards until curfew comes. Again and again, she guessed if it was George or if it was Fred and again and again, her answers were correct. Truly annoyed at one point during midday break, Angelina threw her arms in the air and shouted, "You're Mr. Weasley!" to George and ran to her next class before the other twin finds her.

It was the most infuriating thing she ever had to go through.

And, she yet to figure out why she hadn't mentioned their nicknames Gred and Forge. Just to make it easy for her.

At long last, the day was nearing its end. It was half past ten at night when Angelina stretched her hands over her head after reviewing her Transfiguration homework which she was very proud of. She packed her belongings that were scattered on the couch with a vague smile to herself, ready to put the day behind her when suddenly both of their ginger heads appeared from behind the couch.

"Not you two again," she groaned, half tempted to throw her ink bottles to their heads. Hey, it's safer than a fork through their skin.

"Now, Angelina," said (and she was sure of it) George, "Truly you do not hate us that much?"

"We have been nothing but kind to you," Fred grinned as he took a seat next to her while George sat on her other side.

"Kind my foot," Angelina murmured, collecting her items quicker than before.

"Tell us," George said casually, leaning his back on the arm of the couch.

"How _did_ you guess us correctly the whole day?" Fred verbalized.

"Because I am your friend," Angelina sighed, slinging her bag on her shoulder and picking up her books and left them. Before she entered the girl's dormitory staircase, she turned to them and gave them a reassuring smile. "Fred, your trainer's dirty." And she was gone.

Both George and Fred looked at Fred's trainers and compared it to George's clean ones.

_Oh… that's how._


End file.
